Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief, Dulcie was not a prude. She merely found overt displays of sexuality to be rather ill-befitting of polite society, and Cath was always far too quick to express her attraction at inopportune moments.
“It’s not a bad thing, sexy!” Cath protested once more. “It’s perfectly reasonable to be prudish, especially when we’re always surrounded by straight people, but we should be encouraging Eddie to express herself-“
“Yes, well, I don’t think encouragement is the same thing as eavesdropping on her encounters and then analyzing them like some unpaid psychologists.”
They were sitting at the breakfast table earlier than usual, as their slow morning had been sped up by accidentally overhearing Eddie getting supremely railed. Dulcie could see the arguments building on Cath’s face, and braced herself for an argument she was ill equipped to win. Luckily for Dulcie, Eddie appeared in the dining room, looking rather spiffy. Unluckily for Dulcie, Cath was unwilling to allow the conversation to drift from Eddie’s hook-up. At least Eddie seemed as uncomfortable with the conversation as Dulcie, which was another reminder of their limited similarities. Soon, breakfast was over, and with it, the painful honesty of Cath’s sincerity.
“What’s the game plan for the day, muff divers?”
“Eddie, you really can’t be saying things like that…”
“What’s the problem? I’ve joined your ranks now, haven’t I?”
But Dulcie could see the twinkle in Eddie’s eyes, and knew that further chastisement would only result in an acceleration of the inappropriate language. Perhaps it was time to meet Eddie where she was at. “I suppose you’re right. I was thinking us vagitarians could get a workout in, then hit the pool.”
Eddie squinted. “Nah, mate. Vagitarian is crap.”
“Alright, then we’ll just be lemons!” Dulcie hated when her plans backfired, as often happened when Eddie was involved.
“I’d forgotten about that one, sexy!” Cath broke in, all smiles. “Yes, let’s bring it back! We’ll be the lemon trio.”
“Nope, not doing that.” Eddie shook her head. “God that is some shit slang, fucking lemons. Haven’t heard that in actual decades, Dulcie, you’re embarrassing the shit out of me.”
As they argued about an appropriately humorous but non-offensive slang term for a trio of gay women, Dulcie felt herself scanning the ship and its passengers. Although she had relinquished her badge, the constant state of suspicious observation had yet to leave her mind and body. On the deck: a pair of children without close parental control. Down the promenade: a gaggle of retirees with too many shopping bags. On the elevator: an elderly couple who did not look at them. She felt her hackles raise when the elderly couple exited along with them, following them down the hallway, and Dulcie did not feel herself relax until they entered a stateroom. Based on the way Eddie’s eyes were also tracking them, Dulcie was not alone in her constant vigilance.
“I’ll take your silence as agreement!” Cath chimed in, and Dulcie had the decency to look guilty.
“Sorry love, I missed that last bit?”
“Bean flickers, your wife wants to call us bean flickers.” Eddie explained. “While you were busy assessing the crime potential of those old geezers, I was defending our noble sexuality from shit ass slang that should’ve died out decades ago!”
“I wasn’t- can’t we use something a bit more classy?”
But Eddie had already disappeared into her room, and Cath was tugging Dulcie behind her, and suddenly the past ten minutes felt altogether too much. The morning had slipped and slid in her mind, the conversation feeling disjointed, and even her paranoia felt unreal. Perhaps it was only the gentle hum of the boat beneath her feet, but Dulcie felt unmoored.
“Cath, love? I’d rather go for a run.”
Cath frowned. “Not the gym?”
“No. I think a run would be better.”
And then Cath was squinting at her, putting in so much effort to decode the mess of emotions tangled in a knot in Dulcie’s mind, threatening to slip out onto her face. Before Cath could say something, Dulcie clarified:
“I’m feeling… well, I’m feeling a bit disconnected from myself.”
Cath, bless her, understood immediately. “It’s quite overwhelming, this big ship and all the people and the constant sensory input. The gym would be a lot, now wouldn’t it? Take Eddie to the track and clear your head. I’ll go hop on a bike in the gym and we’ll meet at the pool in a couple hours, yeah?”
Eddie, on the other hand, was less agreeable:
“Oi! I haven’t run since I had to chase that fucking murderer through the woods, remember?”
“Then it’s time to take up the sport!”
Despite the constant complaining, Eddie’s presence was oddly soothing. Once, it had been grating, the obscenities and swagger and endless grumbling. But somehow, through the months of shivers and sweat, Eddie had settled in Dulcie’s heart.
The track was empty. Wrapping around the ship on a middle deck, the track was open to the air and contained no amenities. But the ocean breeze was peaceful, and the gentle thud of her footsteps slowly began to clear Dulcie’s mind.
“Fuckety fuck, slow down you fucking antelope!” Eddie wheezed at her side, and Dulcie turned to see a face already red and sweaty.
“Cardiovascular exercise is good for your health, Eddie.”
“Oh fuck right off with that shit, you aren’t my bloody doctor!” The words were punctuated by gasps for air.
“Would you rather head to the gym and be surrounded by a bunch of men sweating and grunting?”
“You make a fair fucking point, mate.”
Beyond the track, Dulcie could see the foamy white wake produced by the ship, and the fluffy clouds scattered across the sky. It would be a beautiful day. As they rounded the gentle corner once more, another runner appeared. She was older, as evidenced by the light crinkles on her face and the gray in her hair, but age had not softened her body. Thin as a pencil and moving with surprising speed, Dulcie was startlingly reminded of a greyhound. The woman’s clothing looked expensive, and Dulcie braced for a look of haughty judgment at their lumbering lope. But it did not come. Instead, the woman smiled broadly and waved as she passed:
“G’day!”
“G’day!” Came their automatic twin replies.
Mercifully, Eddie waited until she was out of earshot before remarking:
“Shit, that granny is a gazelle in human form.”
“Mmm.”
They were silent save for huffing, then, as they pounded across the track. The burn started in her calves and lungs too soon, and Dulcie remembered her years at the police academy. Running was easy, then. Perhaps she had grown old.
“Fuck- me-“ Eddie gasped between every word. “My- heart- is about- to pop-“
“Not as witty as usual.” Dulcie managed to spit out the whole phrase in one breath, which she was rather proud of.
Eddie shot her a glare. “Too- hard- to be- funny- when- I’m about- to collapse- from exercise- induced- cardiac- arrest!”
“Oh, did you Google that this morning?”
“Had an- old geezer- pop- off- that- way- a few- years ago!” Eddie panted. “Bloody- idiot- ran a- marathon- without- training! See- Collins- bad- for- your- health!”
“Regular cardiovascular exercise is crucial for long term health!” Dulcie objected, despite her own misgivings.
Ahead, they could see the woman approaching once more, barely out of breath despite her speed.
“G’day g’day.” Dulcie responded on instinct, but the woman didn’t do more than flash a quick smile to her. Instead, she looked at Eddie as she passed them.
“Looking good, luv!” And she winked.
The woman was well out of sight before Eddie could muster a response. “Did- she- say… was- that…?”
“Apparently you’ve attracted more than university aged women.” Dulcie mused.
Eddie’s face was flushed and sweaty. “Why- the fuck- is a- cougar- making eyes- at me?”
“Well, you’re a bit of a pocket rocket.”
Dulcie knew the blow was coming, but only years of finely honed police reflexes let her dodge the oncoming punch, and she smiled as Eddie let out a burst of expletives. The anger carried them through the rest of the run, and Dulcie was forced to suppress a giggle when, as they stood panting after their run, the older runner passed them a third time.
“Nothing like a brisk morning workout!” She called. “See you around, ladies!”
Eddie, bent at the hips with her hands on her knees, waved vaguely. “Yeah, see ya.”
By the time they’d donned their swim suits and made their way to the pool deck, Dulcie’s muscles were beginning to stiffen. It was only the micro tears and lactic acid causing her pain, she scolded herself, nothing to worry about. Eddie, meanwhile, had no compunction about complaining.
“Fuck me sideways, my hammies are tighter than my dad’s arsehole!”
“Please don’t discuss your father’s bum.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to grow up hearing him grunting on the damn toilet every morning. Old fucker should’ve started eating Metamucil four decades ago. Ow, fuck!”
Unfortunately, they were passing a cluster of families on the pool deck, and the parents shot them a slew of dirty looks, to which Eddie was completely oblivious.
“Yes, well, your father’s bowel movements are a complete mystery to me, and I’d like them to stay that way.”
She was saved from further explanation as a familiar voice called loudly to them:
“I’m over here, loves!”
Cath, resplendent in a bright turquoise swim suit and a large floppy hat, had claimed three lounge chairs near the deep end of the pool. Based on the dirty looks from nearby guests, they were in the prime location.
“Is that a different suit, Cath?” Dulcie inquired.
“Yeah, I brought five different ones, sexy!”
“Ah. I didn’t know you owned so many swim suits?”
“I bought a ton of new ones, I thought I told you?”
“Alright.” Eddie cut in. “I’ll leave you to have this little domestic while I wash off the sweat from my cooch in the pool.”
“Take a cleansing shower, Eddie!” Dulcie called out, but Eddie had already cannonballed into the pool, splashing several small children in the process.
“How was your run?” Cath asked as she slathered sunscreen over her whole body.
“Oh, it was good. We’re terribly out of shape, but…”
“Well, that’s normal! I’m glad you got out, that’s the important part. I had a great gym session. There was this gorgeous young butch lesbian- don’t worry, she was already taken- who spotted my lifts.”
“Another lesbian?” Dulcie paused, thinking through the statistical anomalies of this trip. “We met a cougar on the run who flirted with Eddie. That’s an oddly large number of lesbians, isn’t it?”
“Not really.” Cath replied cheerfully. “It’s supposed to be an LGBTQIA+ cruise, so I’m surprised by the number of straight people.”
“Wait, what?” Dulcie was shocked. “It’s a gay cruise?”
“Yeah! I found it on a queer Aussie Facebook group that I joined last year. Honestly I’m surprised we haven’t seen any of our friends from Sydney!”
“Oh. Oh that explains all the lesbians.” Dulcie stared around at their fellow guests with a new eye. She had avoided analyzing the crowd in an attempt to abandon her detectives way, but now she let herself look. She began to notice the mullets and piercings, and, in the bright sun, saw the faded white top surgery scars on a few men. In one corner, she saw two moms wrangling their recalcitrant toddlers. Across the deck, she saw a pair of men holding hands. Oh. The tangle in her gut, hitherto ignored, loosened once more.
“So there was an older woman interested in Eddie?” Cath asked. “That’s not surprising, she’s a bit of pocket rocket.”
The afternoon progressed in a lazy manner, as Dulcie alternated between sunbathing and wading into the pool. Cath followed her, naturally, taking to swimming with significantly more glee, and cracking open her book anytime they were on dry land. Eddie, meanwhile, engaged in three separate water fights with pre-adolescent boys before retiring to the shade and drinking a truly egregious amount of Coke.
“Ah, this is the shit!” Eddie pronounced as she downed a second hot dog. “You really know how to plan trips, Cath, I bow down to your excellence.”
“Thanks, love.” Cath looked up from her book for the first time in an hour, then frowned. “I think you’ve sunburnt yourself, Eddie.”
“Nah, not possible. I’m half Indian, remember? Got that lovely melanin to protect me, don’t I? My people were meant for the sun!”
Clearly, Eddie had been embracing her ancestry, and Dulcie credited Miki for the evolution.
“No, Cath is right, Eddie.” Dulcie leaned over and squinted at Eddie’s neck, then pointed. “You’re definitely red in a few patches.”
“Bullshit, Collins! I don’t burn, never have! Never used sunscreen a day in my childhood in Barra Creek- oh fuckety, ow!” Eddie had poked the places on her skin where Dulcie had pointed, and winced.
“Don’t worry, I packed aloe!” Cath proclaimed.
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you, love?”
“I try, sexy, I try.”
They stayed on the sun deck a little while longer, although Eddie had abandoned her earlier cheer in favor of sulking. Then, as Dulcie was beginning to fear her own sunburn, they packed up and headed back to the staterooms. The air conditioning was blissfully cool, almost too chilly, as they showered and curled up in the large king bed.
“I’m setting an alarm.” Cath said, reassuringly, but Dulcie was already asleep.
When Dulcie awoke to the sound of Cath’s alarm, she was momentarily disoriented. Her skin still felt asleep, as if the nerve endings refused to wake up, and every sensation was jarring. Her mouth felt dry and her eyes itched and her brain refused to comprehend the reality of being awoken. Only a moment before, she had been having a lovely dream in which she and Cath were receiving a massage from a pair of Corgis who had been specially trained in Shiatsu massage, although the origin of her anthropomorphic canine bodywork fantasy was a mystery. But now, she was tangled in starched white sheets, and the boat gently rocked beneath her.
“Wha’ time is it?” Dulcie slurred.
“4:30 pm.” Cath whispered, and yawned. “We only slept for about forty five minutes, but that was probably too long for a nap. Ready to get up?”
They lounged in bed for a few minutes longer, however, luxuriating in the peace and quiet. Time would always relentless march forward, Dulcie knew, but sometimes in these pockets of sequestration from the world, it felt like everything was paused. Then Cath disentangled herself and got up to dress. With a sigh, Dulcie followed her.
Despite the sluggish in her veins and the distraction of Cath’s tits, Dulcie found herself dressed and ready for dinner in record time. But when they left their stateroom and knocked on Eddie’s door, there was no reply.
“Eddie?” Cath called, just a little too loudly.
There was a clatter behind the door, a groan and series of muffled expletives, then Eddie opened it. At least she was wearing her underwear this time.
“What the fuck do you want?” Words slurred, but eyes crusted with sleep. Too long of a nap, then, not booze.
“Dinnertime, Eddie!” And Dulcie was surprised by the shortness in her voice. “Let’s get a move on!”
“Oh fuck it, I’m skipping dinner.”
But as Eddie turned to slam the door, Dulcie caught it.
“Put your big girl pants on and join us in the dining hall in fifteen minutes, or so help me, I will break down this door and drag you out!”
Eddie closed the door, grumbling an incoherent response that Dulcie assumed was agreement, and they left her to get dressed. Cath, bless her heart, waited until they were in the elevator before rounding on Dulcie.
“I’m sorry to say this, sexy, but you were being a royal bitch! May I ask why you decided to snap at Eddie for oversleeping?”
But Dulcie didn’t know. She didn’t know why her good mood had vanished at the sight of Eddie in her worn out bra and panties, looking as bedraggled as a wet kitten. She didn’t know why the anger had suddenly welled up inside of her and threatened to spill forth in a torrent of screams. She didn’t know- she just didn’t know.
“I don’t know.”
“Not good enough, Dulcie!” Cath chirped. “Don’t recede into your vault of repression, we need to talk through these feelings before they ferment!”
“I don’t want to, Cath!”
“Then let me try.”
The elevator music was a series of soft woodwind and piano, soothing but not distracting. Dulcie wished it was disco. Maybe that would quiet down the thoughts in her head.
“Oh, I think I understand!” Cath brightened up as they got off the elevator and made their way to the dining hall. “You’re worried about Eddie, but you don’t want to admit it, so it’s coming out as anger.”
“…what?”
“Table for three, please.” Cath said to the hostess. “It makes perfect sense. Eddie looked rather fucked up, and you immediately thought it could be from drinking or some other sordid habit. So you were worried about her, but instead of working through the concern, you lashed out.”
Dulcie was silent for a moment. “Yes, I think you’re right.”
“So you’ll apologize to Eddie when she comes in, and then everything will go back to normal.”
“Yeah, sure.”
The table was elegant, far more elegant than the night before. Clad in white linen with starched napkins and flickering fake candles, she could almost forget they were on a cruise. That, plus the ostentation of waiters in dress shirts and an actual piano player in the corner tinkling out Chopin, made Dulcie fervently grateful for Cath’s packing. Dulcie wouldn’t have known to pack formal clothes on a cruise, but Cath had stuffed Dulcie into a pressed button up and white pants. For her part, Cath wore a fluttering dress that was a smidgen too low cut for the whole affair. She’d think them quite smart looking, really, if it weren’t for the pattern. Their shirt and dress matched, of course, but it was not a smart black or navy blue. Instead, Cath had chosen the most garish fabric Dulcie had ever seen. She tried not to look at the neon orange flowers and bright green leaves patterning Cath’s dress, but her matching dangling earrings completed the ensemble in a truly horrific manner.
Then Cath smiled at her, bright and warm, and Dulcie forgot all about the eye watering pattern. She held out a hand on the table, and Cath took it.
“You’re right. As always. I’ll talk with Eddie when she arrives.”
By the time Eddie arrived, the waiter had come and gone with drink orders and appetizers. Dulcie was busy munching on a spear of broccoli when Eddie took the open seat.
“Looks like you started without me!”
Despite her promise to Cath, Dulcie did not immediately broach the topic of her earlier outburst. Instead, she whispered in a frantic tone:
“Eddie, what in God’s name are you wearing?”
Dulcie shouldn’t have been surprised. She really, really shouldn’t have been surprised. The cargo shorts were a staple of Eddie’s closet, she knew, and the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt was not altogether out of place on a cruise. But the t-shirt underneath, which was excruciatingly obvious due to the aforementioned lack of buttoning, was emblazoned with a large cartoon shark and the phrase: swim fast, eat ass.
“Oh, this?” Eddie glanced at her shirt. “Miki found it at a store in Melbourne, thought I’d like it.”
“Eddie,” Cath asked, more gently than Dulcie could’ve managed. “Did you read my cruise packing instructions?”
“If they were in that twenty page PDF you texted to me a few weeks ago, the answer is gonna be no.” Eddie took a sip of water and flagged down a waiter. “Can I get an order of cocktail shrimp? Please and thank you.”
“At least you’ve remembered your manners.” Dulcie rubbed her forehead. “Dinners are formal, Eddie.”
In an almost comedic fashion, Eddie glanced around to the other guests. She saw the fine china on the table and the disapproving look of a passing waitress and, finally, Dulcie and Cath’s outfits.
“Oh. Right. Didn’t pack any of those. Still,” Eddie replied, grinning widely. “At least I don’t look like a glowstick jerked off on my clothes.”
Cath looked offended for a moment, before breaking into a giggle.
Dulcie sighed. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, then. In the meantime, at least button up your shirt?”
They never got around to addressing Dulcie’s earlier bitchiness, but there seemed to be no lingering tension. Soon, all three were laughing over lemonade and sparkling water, as Eddie regaled them with tale after tale of Miki’s children’s exploits.
“And then I told them, if you’re gonna steal from Miki’s wallet, you’ve gotta do so in small bits! A dollar here or there, not a full $50!”
“Sounds like you’re a wonderful influence on these children.”
“Oh, shut your face, Collins.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be encouraging criminal behavior, since the Indigenous community is already struggling with those sorts of painful stereotypes….”
“I swear on God’s sweaty thong, York, you better not side with Miki on this one!” Then Eddie grinned. “I gave ‘em $20 and told them to open a bloody lemonade stand.”
Dulcie ordered herself a lovely Asian salad with crispy chicken and mandarin orange slices, while Cath finally settled on the Ahi tuna and mango chutney (after extensive hemming and hawing). Eddie, of course, selected the surf and turf: a lobster tail and filet mignon.
“How would you like your steak cooked?” Asked the waiter politely.
“Mate.” Responded Eddie with total sincerity. “When you bring that plate out, that steak better still be mooing.”
Their dinner was delicious, as expected, and Dulcie was beginning to feel the gentle haze of a full stomach when the waiter approached them once more. This time, he was carrying a cocktail topped with pineapple and a maraschino cherry.
“We didn’t order that-“ Dulcie cut in, but the waiter waved her objections off.
“It’s from the lady in the corner. For you.” And he set the drink in front of Eddie.
Dulcie stared at Eddie. Eddie stared at the drink. Then all three women turned to look at the lady in the corner. It was the older runner from that morning, now dressed in a violet velvet gown and practically dripping in diamonds. She raised a martini glass to Eddie, and winked. Eddie glanced at the napkin which had accompanied the drink, and read aloud:
“Room 187. Between eight and ten PM.”
There was a moment of silence, then Cath burst out laughing.
“You’re just drowning in pussy, aren’t you, love?”
“How are you doing this, Eddie? How is every lesbian on this cruise trying to fuck you?”
“I don’t know!” Eddie protested. “I know I’m hot shit, but this is absurd!”
“It’s really not, Eddie.” Cath reassured her. “You’ve got this whole ‘devil may care’ middle aged fuck boy vibe that is clearly appealing to a variety of women.”
There was another moment of silence. Far too many of those fucking moments of silence, Dulcie would say. So she broke it by asking, rather peevishly:
“So are you going to go to her cabin?”
“I-“ Eddie looked non-plussed. “I mean, twice in one day? That’s a bit much, I’m not exactly a spring chicken.”
“If I had to guess, I’d suspect she’s going to be a pillow princess.” Cath mused. “So you most likely wouldn’t have to orgasm.”
“Oh dear Jesus.” Dulcie dropped her head into her hands. “Look, how about we order dessert, then Cath and I will go to bingo and let you make your decision, yeah?”
“Yeah, alright.” Eddie chortled. “Can’t believe this is only day two of our trip!”
Dulcie couldn’t believe it either. They’d been on board the ship for just over twenty four hours, and already there had been more emotions (and sexual conversations) than she’d thought possible. The cruise was seven days. Or was it ten? Regardless, it had felt like weeks already, and the promised relaxation had not occurred.
Despite her atheism, Dulcie summoned to mind every deity she’d ever learned about. Then, she sent them a very simple prayer: let her survive the rest of the cruise without wanting to stab her own eyeballs out with a fork.